


The Sins in Our Veins

by ofgodsandstars



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Banishment, Blood, Blood Drinking, Churches & Cathedrals, Complicated Relationships, Dark, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Evolution, Explicit Language, Fantasy, Forbidden, Forbidden Love, Full Moon, Gen, Gothic, Hunters & Hunting, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Making Out, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Moon, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythology References, Occult, Original Mythology, Other, Potions, Rituals, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Spells & Enchantments, Supernatural Elements, Thrones, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Witch Curses, Witchcraft, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-22
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-22 06:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofgodsandstars/pseuds/ofgodsandstars
Summary: Hundreds of years ago, a cataclysmic event known as the New Birth imbued every living soul on the planet with a mysterious energy, that came to be known as Plasma.With evolution, came darkness, concentrated in a race of beings known as the Blood-Breathers, their Monarch being the Undying Lord Chan.When a new Child of Legend is born, the Blood-Breathers set out to bring an ancient, dark ritual back to life, but they are met with the Child's protective Coven, and a certain Hunter of forbidden origins.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Chanlix





	1. I - Lord Chan

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am here with a new fic, one that's barely storyboarded but I'm excited nonetheless! 
> 
> This was inspired by a Vampire AU idea on Twitter, and whilst the premise is of vampires, I've put my own little twist on it to create a fantasy and a world of my very own.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! ❤

A lone figure walked through the dark cathedral as thunder boomed overhead and lightning occasionally shot slices of electric blue across his path. The rain beat down in torrential sheets, a cacophony of noise against the high roof of the Gothic-style building. 

Ahead of the man, further down the vast expanse of the hall, was an area only slightly illuminated by a few candles, its flames wavering with the winds beating in through the open windows. The glow of the faint fire cast an eerie halo on the man who draped himself on the throne in the centre.

He was beautiful, too beautiful to be human - of course that was because he wasn't one. His skin was pale, his lips full and rosy, his irises large and somehow shifting between grey and red depending on how the light hit it. His dark hair was slicked back, with a few loose strands touching his forehead. 

He quirked an eyebrow up as the informant approached, lowering his hood and making eye contact with the Lord of the Blood-Breathers; his eyes a matching red. 

He nodded to the monarch, holding out a glass vial in his hands, in which a thick, deep red liquid stained its engagement. 

The lord's eyes grew wide, and gracefully, he allowed his legs to drop off the side of the throne and meet the ground. With an aura of power that somehow seemed to encircle him, he walked towards the informant, regarding the vial in his hand. 

"We found him, Lord Chan," the man said, holding out the vial to him. 

"Have you tasted the blood for yourself to make sure?"

The man nodded. "He is one of the Avowed, your Highness."

"Is that so?" The King drawled, and without touching the vial, simply by waving his hand in the air as if pulling on invisible puppet strings, the cork on the vial came loose, and the thick red liquid was coaxed out, floating in the air as if floating in zero gravity. 

Lord Chan brought the blood to his lips with a gentle curl of his fingers, savouring it on his tongue the same way one would savour a fine wine.

The blood was sweet, almost fragrant as it silkenly slipped down his throat. Almost immediately, his irises turned white, fully disappearing before his eyes began to glow with a silvery light, almost like the moon. 

He titled his head back as he felt a momentary wave of power wash over him from just the tiniest sip of the Blood of the Avowed. The legends were true - their power simply was extraordinary. 

The light faded from Chan's eyes as he faced the man in front of him. 

"And what is this man's name, Minho?"

"Jisung, my Lord. One of the Last of the Avowed. He lives on the Crossways between Worlds; the Crux."

"Protected by the Cavaliers of the Coven, I am assuming?" Chan mused, as his tongue tingled with the flavour of the blessed blood. 

"That brings us to our next problem, my Lord," Minho responded. "The Cavaliers know of the impending Dark Dawn, they intend to cross the threshold into our world, to put a stake through your heart, and they are sending one of their best." 

Under the shadows, Lord Chan smirked, not a single bone in his body shaken by worry. "And what is the name of the Cavalier being sent after me?"

Lightning illuminated the room once more, momentarily turning Minho's grey eyes into rings of molten silver. 

"Felix," he replied shortly. "The Hunter of the Grimlands."

*

The Crux was once considered the centre of the earth, the source of the first, legendary wave of Plasma that scattered the lands both across and beneath the sea. 

It was referred to as the New Birth, where one day the seas split open and the earth trembled at it had never before, with waves of mysterious, unstable energy permeating through its crust and encasing the entire planet in a cocoon of electromagnetic energy that changed the course of life forever.

Land had been torn apart, dividing the old kingdoms and the old continents and creating islands and landscapes that were brand new, and with this new creation of the earth itself, came the strange changes to the humans who inhabited it.

People began to change, exhibiting the ability to manipulate the Plasma that hung in the air and coursed through their veins. Others took a darker turn, their entire premise of survival depending on something macabre.

That was how the Blood-Breathers came to be, and they were just one civilisation of many. The Blood-Breathers kept themselves alive on lifeforce itself, absorbing the energy and life that lay in anything that breathed. Plants, animals, humans. 

And the easiest source of lifeforce, was blood. 

So it was no wonder that they were seen as a ghastly threat, it was no wonder that wars were waged on them and they were banished to the wastelands of Teneb'r; a land on the very edge of the planet, a land that was initially barren, with no life for them to drain. 

But the Blood-Breathers were fuelled by vengeance, fuelled by anger, fuelled by spite in the face of how they had been mistreated, and they found a way to survive. They found a way to transform the dreary wastelands of Teneb'r into a kingdom that thrived, they created a community of their own, a monarchy of their own.

The Blood-Breathers were unique in another way; whilst they could be killed, just as easily as any other being would be, they were able to sustain their life for longer, after all, their sustenance was life itself. 

Their nature had deemed the union and intermingling of other civilisations with the Blood-Breathers forbidden by every single nation. Children born of these unions, along with their identifiable parents, were banished to the Grimlands - a land of darkness, ravenous creatures and mysterious, dying traces of Plasma. 

With what would appear to be a fate worse than death, nobody in their right mind would make the mistake of carrying a Blood-Breather's child. 

Would they?


	2. II - Forbidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hundreds of years of their banishment, and here Minho was, a poisonous Blood-Breather, standing in the centre of the Crux with violence in his eyes and a malicious smile painted on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how dark this fic is, its gonna be nothing like the others I've written :3 there's lots more to come so stay tuned!

Forbidden rituals were nothing new to Minho. Being a Blood-Breather, there was really nothing about his existence that WASN'T forbidden.   
Dying Plasma was highly volatile, its nature bordered primarily on destruction, rather than creation like it usually is in its purest state. But Dying Plasma was also incredibly powerful if manipulated in the right ways, and that was something that only the Blood-Breathers could do. 

No Blood-Breather had ever walked across the lands of the Crux before; there were too many Wards of intense Plasma that surrounded the land to keep their kind out. It wasn't until word spread that about the Avowed being protected by the Cavaliers that the Blood-Breathers had even considered going there. 

Minho recalled the conversation with the Shroud - the most senior and most powerful Blood-Breathers of Teneb'r. 

"And you're sure of this?" Lord Chan had asked, draped across his throne in the Cathedral. 

The younger Blood-Breather, a man named Hyunjin, nodded. It was rare for young Blood-Breathers to be allowed council with the Shroud, much less be taken seriously, but Hyunjin was a prodigy. He had been born with the rare ability to manipulate and sense changes in Plasma.

"His scent must've been masked by the Cavaliers, but recently he has been moved to the Crux. I sensed a major shift in the Plasmatic Field which led me straight there," Hyunjin had confirmed. 

Lord Chan studied the man closely, mulling over his words in his head. It was a risk to send a Blood-Breather to the Crux; either the Wards would kill them, or the Cavaliers would. His eyes had shifted to Minho, the most powerful Blood-Breather after himself, the only one who could possibly carry out this mission. 

The man perked under the lord's attention. "Is there a Ritual we can use to get in?" Lord Chan had asked. 

"The Ritual of the Cursed," Minho had replied. It was the one he was practising now, a Ritual that required Dying Plasma and took days, sometimes weeks before it came to completion. 

He was now in the catacombs of the Cathedral with Hyunjin, who was helping him with the Ritual. In the centre of the dark, dungeon-like space was a tiered structure of 6 silver plates, with the first plate at the very top starting off quite small in diameter, with each plate below it wider than the one before. 

The structure itself sat in the middle of a concrete ring, raised about 4 feet off the ground, solid rock except for the shallow dip in the very middle to house the plated structure, forming the very ring itself. 

There was a faint, indigo shimmer that surrounded them in the catacombs; Dying Plasma that Hyunjin had managed to manifest. He stood in front of the silver plates in a sort of a trance, his eyes were glowing with that same ominous indigo as his arms were stretched out on either side of his body, fingers curling slightly from time to time as wisps of Dying Plasma circled his hand. 

With a sudden jerk, Hyunjin's head whipped back and his chest puffed out forward, the faint Plasma around them now growing more tangible, darker and more intense in colour; more visible.   
The Plasma all coalesced around Hyunjin in a blanket of deep, writhing blue. He straightened his posture, bringing both his arms together in front of him, outstretched and palms pressed together. The gesture commanded the Dying Plasma around him, rushing forward in spasmodic waves towards the silver structure in front of them.

The indigo force formed into a sort of sphere on the topmost plate, spinning around almost like a gaseous planet in orbit. 

Hyunjin dropped his hands, the blue glow in his eyes fading. He turned and smirked at Minho, bowing in faux courtesy and out stretching his arm towards the plates. "All yours now."

Minho stepped forward with a vial of deep red liquid in one hand, and placed the other one on the surface of the concrete ring, fingers splayed. The veins beneath his skin turned black, as did the flesh underneath his fingernails. The blackness seemed to run up his right arm and towards his face, as evidenced by the blackening veins on the bare skin of his neck, webbing up his cheek, darkening under his eyes like cracks in his skin.

It was a grotesque thing to see; Minho using his power. The veins on his face went black as well, as did his lips, and his eyes seemed to be swamped by inky darkness too, the whites of his eyes wholly swallowed up. 

Black cobwebs of power emitted from the hand he laid on the concrete, spreading across the entire expanse of the cylindrical rock, shooting up each of the plates and wrapping itself around the sphere of Dying Plasma like a mass of black veins, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Minho smirked, and it looked devilish on his black lips and darkened eyes. He removed his hand, the black beneath his skin receding as his more human features returned. He then took the vial of deep red liquid; a mixture of blood from the most senior members of the Shroud, and emptied it into the basin surrounding the silver structure. 

The indigo energy then began to act like a cloak of Plasma that had a life of its own, spreading out across the dungeon and moving in spasms. Hyunjin then stepped forward to complete the ritual, a long slender hand pointed towards the skylight in the dark domed ceiling. The moon was in its full, glorious bloom, and as the wisps of deep blue energy wrapped around Hyunjin's fingers, the moon's glow filtering through the glass grew almost tangible as it hit the pulsating orb of Dying Plasma at the very tip of the silver plate. 

Hyunjin stepped back, Minho stepped forward, and the orb burst. Waves of black and blue Plasma washed over him, while a faint sound that almost resembled distant screaming rang in the very base of his brain. He closed his eyes as the forbidden ritual imbued his body with ancient, albeit temporary magic that would allow him to teleport to the Crux, secure the blood of the Avowed, and return to Teneb'r for as long as the moon shone.

When he opened his eyes, the scenery around him had changed. No longer did he stand in the dingy, dark chamber of the Cathedral of Teneb'r; he now stood in the very centre of the land that was the home to all Plasma, the land that Blood-Breathers were forbidden to ever step foot in. His very presence here was sacrilege, a sin, tainting hundreds of years of the land's sanctity. 

Hundreds of years of their banishment, and here Minho was, a poisonous Blood-Breather, standing in the centre of the Crux with violence in his eyes and a malicious smile painted on his lips.


End file.
